


Golden

by novocaine_sea



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Cancer, Established Relationship, M/M, almost canon compliant, they're still figure skaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 04:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10297499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/pseuds/novocaine_sea
Summary: “I… I don’t want to lose you.” Yuri mumbles lowly.“Yuri… I’m golden. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”When Otabek is diagnosed with cancer at twenty-one years old, Yuri is beside himself. He takes it worse than Otabek seems to and with a little push from Otabek himself, Yuri skates to the theme of resilience.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to get this out of my system :') I really have no excuse for this. I'm sorry.  
> Thank you [Ella](http://ochoth.tumblr.com/) for encouraging me to write this and thank you [Erin](http://tenacioustooru.tumblr.com/) for the information about the type of cancer Otabek has!!!

When Otabek starts showing symptoms, Yuri drops everything. He neglects everything dear to him, even skating, to make sure that Otabek has all the help he needs. Otabek repeats over and over again that he’s fine, that he’s just a little sick, and he doesn’t need to be babied.

Otabek keeps this up until he collapses, coughing fit fading into unconsciousness. Otabek is lucky that Yuri is there that time, one hand on his back, the other calling for an ambulance because there’s no way in hell he’s going to be able to haul Otabek’s ass to the car. Otabek is also extremely lucky that he is not skating when he collapses, although they are at the rink. Everybody crowds around him, unhelpful and acting as bystanders. Yuri’s ready to kill them all.

At the hospital Otabek is hooked up to a bunch of machines and put through various tests. MRI and CAT scans are on the list and Yuri has to sit outside the rooms, unable to go in until they’re over. Otabek stays for a couple of days until he gets the diagnosis, and then he is readmitted for an unprecedented amount of time.

The doctor says he has acute myeloid leukemia. All Yuri hears is that he has cancer. It eats away at Otabek’s blood cells, growing in his blood marrow until it filters out to other parts of the body. The doctor explains that the cancer in Otabek is particularly aggressive, slowly creeping towards his liver and getting ready to branch out even further. Yuri takes it harder than Otabek does, fists curled in his lap and teeth grinding together loudly. Hot tears threaten to leak from jade green eyes and Otabek reaches over to take his hand in his. Otabek looks pale but other than that he is his usual stoic self.

When the doctor mentions chemotherapy, Otabek stops him mid sentence and says he doesn’t want to go through with treatment. Yuri feels like he’s been slapped in the face when Otabek says this. The worse part is, Otabek doesn’t even give a reason as to why he denies treatment. He just does.

“Beka, you could _die_!” Yuri exclaims immediately after.

“I know,” is Otabek’s reply.

Yuri gapes at him, wrenching his hand from his grip. “Otabek. You can _die_. Did you not hear me? The chances are pretty likely too.”

“I know.” Otabek repeats and Yuri shakes his head.

“I can’t accept that.” Yuri argues.

Otabek looks down, unable to meet his furious eyes any longer. “You’re going to have to.”

Yuri gets up and leaves after this. He can’t look at him anymore, not when he knows that he is actively and willingly going to kill himself. Yuri thinks of what it’s going to be like to live without him and the thoughts make thick tears spill over, seemingly unable to stop. He cries into his pillow that night while Otabek lays in his hospital bed doing God knows what. It’s definitely not talking to him, although that may be because Otabek has a strict time set for using his cell phone.

Yuri’s anger eventually dissolves into panic with the fact that he may not see Otabek ever again, and very soon. The doctor had not given a time frame, but due to the rarity of the disease, his prognosis didn’t look very positive. Yuri decides to visit Otabek every day, as if he wasn’t already going to do that, when his skating regimen allows him that is. He hates that skating always has to come first because all he wants to do is hold his boyfriend’s hand as he lays in his hospital bed, growing frailer by the second.

“I’m sorry.” Yuri whispers when he arrives at the hospital.

Otabek just smiles at him. He still looks the same but Yuri knows that inside of him he is rapidly rotting away. “It’s okay. You took it worse than I did.”

Yuri scoffs. “It’s just because you don’t feel things.”

“I feel things.” Otabek reasons and he tries to pout, which doesn’t stop Yuri from leaning over and kissing him quiet. His fingers scratch through the downy soft hairs on the back of Otabek’s neck only to move to the front and over the stubble that Otabek maintains on his face.

Yuri watches as the life fades from Otabek over the next six months, far too quick for his liking. It starts with his hair, falling out in patches until there is nothing left, not even on his arms. He used to have thick, coarse hair lining his arms and stomach but now there is no indication that it was there at all. Yuri still thinks he looks handsome without it. Otabek loses weight too, all the muscle deteriorating until he is skin and bones. He barely eats, unable to stomach anything more than water. Even that is sometimes too much and he vomits aggressively into the convenient bucket placed beside the bed throughout the day. Dehydration and starvation leave him bedridden and sickly. Yuri curses the doctors that take care of him, claiming that they don’t do enough.

Yuri brings him items from their home, pictures of his cat and books that he thinks Otabek will enjoy. He judges them by the cover, something that Otabek always tells him not to. Yuri hates the phrasing but it is the only way to describe what he is doing. Otabek barely has the energy to hold a book anyway and Yuri ends up reading them to him, resulting in Otabek falling asleep peacefully in minutes. Otabek often sleeps when Yuri is visiting but Yuri never minds because that’s when Otabek looks the least in pain.

Yuri stays even when he is not awake, not wanting to miss any moments with him.

“You don’t have to read to me you know.” Otabek hums one day when Yuri is pulling a book from his backpack. Yuri glares at him, dropping into the seat beside him, book still in hand.

All Yuri says is, “I like it,” and starts right where he left off. A small smile graces Otabek’s chapped lips and they crack as he does so. No blood appears in the spaces between dried skin.

“Thank you.” Otabek whispers in the middle of Yuri’s reading, when his eyes are slipping closed and sleep is ready to envelop him in a warm hug.

Yuri pauses and looks at him, watching lashless eyelids cover his deep brown irises, the cancer never taking their light away. “For what?”

But Otabek is sleeping soundly again, a deep rumble in his chest every time he inhales. Yuri closes the book and stands, pressing a kiss to Otabek’s forehead. He doesn’t leave, wants his chance to say goodbye when he wakes up.

It could be the last one he ever gets.

When the GPF competitions begin a month later, the goodbyes grow the hardest. Yuri’s theme this time is resilience and he skates two beautiful programs for Otabek and only for Otabek. He doesn’t care what his score is, although he’ll be damned if he doesn’t bring home gold. And he does, in Rostelecom and in Skate Canada, beating JJ in both events for the first time ever. Victory is bittersweet this time around.

Yuri returns to the same hospital in Kazakhstan afterwards. (Yuri had relocated there because Otabek had wanted to be close to his family as he was dying. Yakov wasn’t happy but Yuri had long since stopped caring about what Yakov thought). Otabek looks weaker, as he does each time Yuri leaves for a short period.

“How are you feeling?” Yuri asks as he sits down, reaching for Otabek’s thin hands. He feels as if he’s holding glass, that Otabek’s hands will break under the gentlest of touches. Otabek’s hands had once been strong and Yuri can remember them threading through his own blonde locks, can feel thick fingers between his own when dragging him along the sand of exotic beaches or through hotel hallways. Those are just ghosts of memories now.

“Awful.” Otabek coughs and it shakes his whole body to the core. It almost sends Yuri running to get a nurse but he knows better. The first time Otabek had a coughing fit like this Yuri was spooked so hard into getting a nurse. But it’s normal now and Yuri hates that it’s become such a staple when visiting his boyfriend.

“Did you eat today?” Yuri continues, running his thumb over Otabek’s fingers. He can feel a slight tremble in them, knowing it’s taking every ounce of energy for Otabek to stay awake. He was so weak and it kills Yuri to see him like this, to watch Otabek literally die a little more everyday in front of him.

Otabek’s head lolls to his shoulder as he looks at Yuri with a dry smile. “I tried.”

Yuri perks a little at that. He thinks it’s better than a no and it is; sometimes he’ll go to the hospital and Otabek can’t even sit up. But today is a good day, Otabek is leaning back against the pillows and he’s smiling; even though he’s trembling, he’s still awake. This is all that matters to Yuri.

“What’d you eat?” Yuri asks, mirroring Otabek’s smile but a little brighter.

Otabek hums low in his chest. “Very dry and bland toast.”

“Did it taste like toast?” Yuri knows that Otabek’s taste buds are all over the place because of the cancer and that things don’t taste the same anymore.

Otabek sighs. “Can we talk about something else?”

Yuri blinks. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He tries not to focus too much on Otabek’s sickness but all he wants is an update from how he was doing since yesterday. Otabek has to live with this twenty-four seven and talking about it doesn’t help. Yuri can see the pain in his eyes every time he forces Otabek to speak about how he’s feeling and if he’s okay. But he can’t stop.

Otabek’s transition is smooth, however. He’s always been smooth. “Are you nervous? For the Grand Prix?”

Yuri snorts. “As if. Now that Katsudon, Victor and Christophe all retired, there’s no real competition. My only real competition is-” He stops himself before he can say _you_. Because Otabek was always his only competition, the one he skated against and for all at once since he was fifteen years old. But now he’s nineteen and Otabek isn’t standing beside him on the podium like he’s supposed to; he’s definitely not supposed to be lying in a hospital bed at twenty-one years old barely having enough energy to move the short distance to use the bedpan.

Otabek chuckles beside him and it accidentally launches him into another coughing fit, one that forces him to let go of Yuri’s hand to cover his own mouth. Yuri tenses again and squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to watch Otabek cough with his entire being. He wonders briefly if Otabek’s hand will come away red like it had before but it doesn’t, thankfully.

The coughs die down but Otabek’s breaths are shallow. Yuri wants to ask him if he’s okay again but he knows it’ll lead to an argument that can easily be avoided. He tries to avoid those nowadays. So he lays his hand out again and waits for Otabek to drop his lithe hand into his, not bothered by the saliva that coats it in the slightest.

“Otabek…” Yuri says after a while. He’s able to look at the man and he hopes he isn’t asleep, but Otabek had been watching him. Otabek had always been observant, still is, above all else. His favorite past time seemed to be watching Yuri and Yuri is hyper aware that Otabek is watching him any time he does so. He wonders briefly why this time was any different but he chalks it up to the situation.

“Yes, Yura?” Otabek’s voice is hoarse from rough coughs that had wracked his body moments ago and Yuri winces at its harshness.

“If… If I chose not to go to the Grand Prix this year, would you hate me?”

Yuri eyes him from the side and he knows Otabek is searching for a reason as to _why_ Yuri would possibly not want to go to the Grand Prix.

“I could never hate you but…” Otabek’s voice drifts as he comes to the conclusion. “Is it because of me?”

Yuri uses his free hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his hair. He had grown it out, unconsciously on Otabek’s behalf and because Otabek said that he thought Yuri’s long hair was beautiful. Otabek used to spend nights combing his fingers through Yuri’s hair and braiding it, weaving the locks together with intricate detail. If he imagines hard enough he can feels the sensation of strong fingers brushing delicately through his long hair and how it felt to be lulled to sleep by those hands. He squeezes the one in his at the memory.

“I want to spend every moment with you that I can.” Yuri doesn’t mention the fact that Otabek is dying even though it’s on the tip of his tongue.

“Your skating is more important than me.” Otabek says softly.

Yuri snaps. Of course he does. When it comes to Otabek, he is always on edge. Today is no different.

“Are you fucking _kidding_? Beka, you’re more important to me than anything in this fucking world, don’t you dare fucking say that skating is more important than you are.”

A hint of a smile plays on Otabek lips. “I’m more important than your cat?”

“Beka!” Yuri shouts and Otabek flinches. “You can’t make jokes like that! You could die! You’re _going_ to die and if I’m not here when you do I’ll never forgive myself!”

Otabek loses his smile and his grip on Yuri’s hand loosens until he retracts it. He looks at the white walls of the hospital room and exhales slowly. “Yura-”

“No. I… I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” Yuri puts his face into his hands and lets out a sob. “Do you know how much I love you? Do you know that I lay awake at night in the shitty little apartment we bought together and think about all your things and what I’m going to have to do with them when you’re gone? Do you know that I cry myself to sleep sometimes because in the future there’s going to be a time when I’m not going to be able to come here and see you? Do you realize that this affects me just as much as it affects you?”

“Yes.” Otabek states simply.

“I don’t think you do.” Yuri mumbles lowly. “I… I don’t want to lose you.”

“Yuri… I’m golden. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Yuri doesn’t realize he’s crying until he pulls his hands from his face and they were shining. He cries a lot these days and he hates that he’s turned into a bitch on Otabek’s behalf. He would never say that out loud though. These were trying times.

He looks over at Otabek with glistening eyes. Otabek reaches for him, fingers twitching and then he brushes the tears from his cheeks. Yuri gasps a little at his touch; Otabek’s fingers are chilly and Yuri closes his eyes, more tears escaping and clinging to heavy, pale lashes.

“Please don’t worry about me. Go skate.” Otabek pleads softly. Yuri cups the hand holding his cheek, holding it in place.

Yuri goes. Although, he doesn’t realize he is there, on the ice, until his name is called and he’s standing waiting for the music to start. When the first note of the piano reverberates through the speakers, Yuri’s hand lifts and he takes off in twirls and quads and loops. He’s dressed in dark blues and grays, mimicking Otabek’s free skate program costume from four years prior. It is more like a suit, having matured into less form fitting clothes. He fits his theme of resilience as he pushes his stamina to the max. It’s the heaviest free skate he’s ever skated and he does it in the name of his love.

Halfway through, something feels off. He can’t quite place what it is but his mind shuts down and it feels as if another hand is guiding him through the rest of his routine. This hand wraps around him, engulfs him entirely and places him in the perfect positions to get a higher score. Yuri sees nothing but bright whites and vibrant blues in this moment. He thinks he can smell leather, heated from long hours spent in the sun. He tastes foreign cuisine and the piroshkis he shares with those close to him. He hears the powerful chords and melodic voices of “Samarkand Overture” playing over his own free skate music. If he reaches out far enough Yuri thinks he can feel coarse yet feather soft black hair between his fingers. These phantom hands bring him towards gold for Otabek one last time, to make him proud.

Yuri barely notices when he stops gliding along the ice and the music filters out. He’s on his knees, fingers dragging across the freezing ice and he’s panting. He feels as if the breath had been ripped from his lungs and there’s a heaviness in his chest that wasn’t there before. He is crying again, from the intensity of the skate and the emotions he felt throughout. He felt nothing in that moment yet all his senses came together to overwhelm him at once. It was as if Otabek was skating right there next to him, touching him, guiding him in the silent, calm way that only he knew how.

Lilia and Yakov meet him at the kiss and cry with tears in their eyes.

“That was beautiful Yurachka,” Yakov pats his shoulder and for once he doesn’t lecture him as they’re waiting for scores. Yuri is burning with anticipation, sweat peppering his brow from the adrenaline catching up to him. He almost misses it when they called his score. He gets a 220.71. He just misses Yuuri’s record that he holds from Yuri’s senior debut but he is satisfied with it. It’s the highest score of his career so far and gives him another goal to work towards for next time. He jumps up and lets out a shout of surprise and ecstasy. Yakov lifts him into the air like he did when he was younger but almost drops him because his back can’t handle Yuri’s growth. Lilia claps beside them, tears finally dripping from bright green eyes.

Yuri’s first thought is that he can’t wait to tell Otabek. He’s sure Otabek is watching, battling sleep in order to view the livestream. He’ll talk to Otabek in the morning hopefully. Otabek is hours ahead of him and he needs his rest.

Yuri is whisked away to interview after interview before he has to stand on the podium in between JJ and Phichit. They all are smiling wide for the cameras, JJ flashing winks to the crowd but mostly to his wife and newborn child somewhere in the stands. Yuri has half the mind to be annoyed but he isn’t going to let JJ ruin another gold medal of his. JJ had matured anyway, growing into a less arrogant prick and more into a humble father.

Yuri is ready to call it quits once all the reporters are gone and he’s able to go back to his hotel room. He does not want to go to the banquet but he knows Yakov will force him to go. As he’s getting dressed and trying to tie his tie (Otabek usually ties it for him), there is a knock on his door. He grumbles as he moves to open it and finds Yakov standing there in his suit, hands tucked away into the pockets of his slacks.

“Ah, can you help me with my tie?” Yuri asks, foregoing the greeting.

Yakov deeply sighs and looks at his student. “Yurachka. I need to speak with you.” He steps in and shuts the door behind him.

Yuri narrows his eyes at him and watches as Yakov sits on his bed. “Are you gonna tell me I don’t have to go to the banquet?”

Yakov pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks older than usual and that’s when Yuri realizes something is very, _very_ wrong.

“...Yakov?” Yuri asks.

Yakov takes one more deep breath before meeting Yuri’s eyes. “Sit, Yurachka.” Yuri complies without argument this time. Yakov begins. “While you were being interviewed Lilia got a call from the hospital in Kazakhstan. They tried reaching you but….” Yuri feels his soul leave his body and he knows what Yakov’s next words are going to be before he even gets a chance to speak.

“Otabek passed some time during your performance.”

And just like that Yuri’s world shatters.

He sits staring at Yakov for approximately fifteen seconds before he is ripping the suit from his body and pulling on a plain t-shirt and jeans. Yakov is yelling, telling him to sit down but there was no time for that. He shoves all his clothes and toiletries into his suitcase and slams it shut, locking it into place. He is barely breathing, harsh intakes of air coming through his nose and out again. He is frazzled and quaking as he rises.

“I’m leaving.” He announces, making his way to the door.

“Yuri-”

“ _NO_!” Yuri screamed at the tops of his lungs, voice tapering off at the end. “I… I need to b-be there. I need to leave right now.”

“The banquet-”

Yuri is halfway to the door and he turns around so fast he almost gets whiplash. His neck burns underneath his skin from the velocity of his turn and he grits his teeth under the pain. The agony slicing through his heart is much worse than the pain in neck. “The banquet? _The fucking banquet_?! You think I give a shit about some pretentious banquet where everybody is just going to get plastered? Otabek is much more important to me than any fucking banquet. Otabek is… he… I told him I would be there when he died and I wasn’t. I wasn’t there.” He whispers towards the end and he moves towards the door again.

“Yuri!”

“Fuck you! You can’t stop me, I’m going back to Kazakhstan whether you say so or not. Tell Lilia that something came up, I don’t fucking care. I’m going to be there when they bury him.” He bites his lips to stop the threat of tears. He wishes he could stop crying every day but he is so overwhelmed with emotions right now that he forgives himself. “I want to say goodbye properly.”

Yakov doesn’t stop Yuri as he pulls the door shut behind him with a loud bang. Yuri hopes that Yakov takes care of the room and returning the key because he doesn’t have the time for that now. He flags down a taxi, somehow avoiding the Yuri’s Angels that inevitably stand guard outside the hotel, and makes his way to the airport. He books his flight on his phone during the half hour ride there and cancels his other ticket. The whole time his chest is incredibly tight and he can’t tell if he wants to scream or cry or break the glass of the windows. He knows that he is about to lose all of his sanity if he does not get to Kazakhstan promptly.

The flight takes about six hours. He had to wait about two to actually board the flight and in that time he vomits violently in the bathroom, throat constricting around the sensation as he dissolves into panic. His head swims and fizzes and he doesn’t know up from down. The world spins around him and he almost falls as he tries to leave, slipping on the damp ground. He ends up sitting on the floor of the stall, head on the germ infested seat as he tries to calm his labored breathing. His eyes blur and cross and he knows he has to get this under control before he boards. Yuri thinks he blacks out for only a minute but when he checks his phone he had been lying there for an hour. His flight is going to be called soon.

He gets up and washes himself off. Splashing cold water on his face to rid himself of tear tracks that stain porcelain skin, he stares at himself in the mirror. He barely recognizes himself. His eyes are bright red and puffy from crying while gasping for what little air he could get into his lungs. His hair's a wreck, half pulled from the ponytail it had been in since the competition. He pulled it out and puts it into a loose bun, trying to make himself presentable. Otabek’s voice filters through his brain and guides him through the airport, sitting him on that six hour flight.

Otabek was always his voice of reason in times of trouble.

Yuri recognizes now that it was Otabek guiding him through his routine too. It is thanks to Otabek that he has the gold medal sitting snug in his suitcase. Like always, Otabek’s hand had reached out to him and showed him the way, kept him grounded and calm. Otabek was golden in every sense of the word, shining brighter than anybody else Yuri had ever seen.

Yuri is the golden one now. Although, the gold is slowly fading into an ugly gray, wearing down from the anxiety in his chest.

It is early morning in Kazakhstan when they touch down and somehow Otabek’s sister Katerina knew he would be there. Maybe Yakov had told her. Maybe she knew on her own that this was the flight Yuri would be taking after the news reached him. Either way, when Yuri sees her he rushes towards her, arms extended. He is going to hug her then refrains, knowing that she is generally not allowed to touch him out in public. She smiles sadly at Yuri, knowing why he is so anxious to see her.

“Hi, Yuri.” Katerina looks like Otabek, the same strong jaw and nose, same piercing brown eyes that could command the attention of anybody who looks deep into them. Yuri believes that she has the same thick black hair hidden under her hijab, if old childhood pictures were anything to go by. Her smile is gentle too, as if she is holding a secret dear to her heart.

“Katerina.” Yuri says respectfully and they get into her car, driving under the hot Kazakhstan sun to the apartment Yuri shared with Otabek. Yuri’s heart aches with each mile that passes and brings them closer their destination. His jaw is in agony from clenching so tight to stop the impending tears that will slip down his cheeks when he enters the premises. Katerina gives him his time, patting his back as they sit on the couch, pushing strands of blond hair from his face so they don’t stick to his face. Katerina does not cry when she is with him, but Yuri hiccups and gasps at hot wetness once again slips down reddening skin. He balls his fists in his lap and sobs. His phone remains off in his pocket.

He does not want to see the unread text he had sent Otabek once he got his phone back after the ceremony.

The apartment smells like Otabek even though he had not been there for months. It is a woodsy, earth scent, one of meadows in the daytime and dirt in a forest. Somehow the scent is pleasant and doesn’t make Yuri feel dirty. Yuri can also smell the leather of Otabek’s jackets that hang in their closet, ones that Yuri will wrap himself in when Katerina is not there.

“He was so proud of you, Yura.” Katerina speaks softly once Yuri has calmed and she forces him to take slow sips of ice water. They cool the fire that is Yuri’s raw throat.

Yuri laughs slightly. “I would hope so.” His voice is raw and slightly above a rasp.

“I was there, when he passed.” She audibly gulps and clasps delicate hands in her lap. “I could tell he was trying so hard to wait until the end of your free skate. He was crying, I didn’t think he had it in him.” She laughs softly but it’s a dry laugh. “He said that… he said he loves you and that he’s sorry that couldn’t stay for the whole thing. You were the only thing on his mind when he passed.”

It’s Yuri’s turn to laugh now. It’s wet, unlike Katerina’s, and he’s crying again. Not quite as hard as before but tears roll unrelenting down his cheeks. “That idiot.” He sniffs and uses his sleeve to wipe away the snot and tears. Otabek hated when he did that.

“He knew you were gonna get gold the moment you stepped on the ice.” Katerina continues.

Yuri nods. “He helped me win the gold. He was with me.”

Katerina smiles softly and nods. She knows what he means and Yuri sniffs once more before grabbing a tissue. Yuri beats himself up, thinking he should have known that Otabek was gone when he was losing himself to the sights and smells of him during his program. But he can’t change the past and if he could he would have never gone to the Grand Prix Final in the first place. He should’ve fought hard against Otabek because in the end, he is much more important to Yuri than skating.

The funeral takes place three days later. Yuri hangs back, letting his family and childhood neighbors mourn before him. Katerina is the only member of Otabek’s family that accepted him in the first place. He does not want to create drama. He waits until everyone is gone to stand before the headstone in disbelief that Otabek is under the ground. He was basically a skeleton anyway, withering under scratchy sheets of the hospital bed he was forced into. Now he is shrouded in white linen buried six feet under the ground that resonated in all of his clothing.

Yuri scuffs the grass and then stops because he is basically standing on Otabek. The thought disturbs him and he almost turns and leaves. But that’s not what he came here for.

“I’m sorry, Beka.” He tells the gravestone and exposed dirt beneath his feet. He hopes somewhere in the sky Otabek can hear him, can hear how thankful he is for his existence. “I… I should blame you for me not being by your side when you died. You told me to go but it was my decision to skate. Katerina told me you were watching me but I _felt_ you with me.”

Yuri clutches his chest as he lays the lilies on the grave. “You always told me… Shit.” Yuri coughs to get the lump in his throat to dissipate. He can’t do this but he has to. He _has_ to give Otabek a proper goodbye instead of staring at their old texts in bed while wearing every layer of Otabek’s clothes he could recover from the drawers.

“You always told me that lilies remind you on me. You didn’t tell me that they were Kazakhstan's flower. I’ll take it as I… I reminded you of home.” Yuri gnaws his trembling lips, tasting copper as he bites to hard. “You were my home. You kept me grounded. And sane around all the other egotistical assholes in our world.”

“I… I don’t have much else to say except sorry. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there and I’m sorry I couldn’t hold your hand as you left. Fuck!” Yuri shouts into the open sky. The clouds above gleam with the sun behind them. They are too bright for the occasion.

“I love you a lot, you asshole. I wish this happened to me instead of you because you deserved to live and achieve everything. You never fucking… you…. We never stood on the podium together. Katsudon and Victor stole your chances away just like JJ did. You crapped out the third year we were supposed to go and then… here… you…” Yuri choked and he bit his knuckles. More blood filled his mouth. “Please don’t… I’m not going to forget you. I can’t. You gave me so much and shit, I’m not good with words and I sound like a jackass but I hope I gave you just as much. I hope you know I love you.”

Yuri angrily swipes the tears away and pulls his long blonde hair back into a ponytail. His breathing his rough and choppy but he pulls it together to say one final thing.

“I’m gonna visit you, every month. I promise. No matter where I am, I’ll drop everything to come see you.” He takes one last look at the ground and the lilies and then he moves away. “Goodbye, Beka.”

As he makes his way through the graveyard, the clouds part. Yuri hangs his head as the world erupts into gold, beating down on him, engulfing him in its warmth. It reminds him of the gold that he stumbles away from; this gold is embedded deep into his heart, taking root in its chambers and binding him forever as it becomes one with the earth once more.

**Author's Note:**

> If it made it this far, I am here with open arms to give you a hug!  
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://novocaine-sea.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
